


Love and Other Antidotes

by haztobegood



Category: Emperor's New Groove (2000), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Attempted Murder, But no smut while Harry is a cow, Enemies to Lovers, Famous Harry, Farmer Louis Tomlinson, Harry is an asshole until he is a cow, Harry is turned into a cow, Humor, M/M, Poisoning, Smut, cartoon antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haztobegood/pseuds/haztobegood
Summary: Arrogant pop star Harry Styles is transformed into a cow by his bandmate Amy Z after a heated argument. Left in the back of a truck, Harry finds himself at a rural farm hours away from his band. Harry has three days to make it back to London and turn back into a human before his next show. His only chance to reclaim his glamorous life rests with a kind farmer named Louis. They must work together to find the antidote before Amy Z finishes him off and takes over the band.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 22
Kudos: 87
Collections: Disney Direction Fic Fest 2020





	Love and Other Antidotes

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a pinch-hit for [Disney Direction Fic Fest 2020](https://disneydirectionfest.tumblr.com/). Thanks to [Rebecca](https://runaway-train-works.tumblr.com/) for putting this fest together! Make sure to read all the other fics and leave kudos and comments for the authors!

“Hurry up, Louis!”

“Come on!”

Louis sighs as he follows his impatient twin sisters to the front entrance of the venue. Daisy and Phoebe have been excited for this concert since they won VIP passes through the radio station the previous week. They had tried for days, using the landline and three cell phones, to be lucky caller number forty. Their tenacity paid off and they won a pair of VIP passes, complete with a meet-and-greet with the members of Lone Location.

Lone Location had been formed six years ago on the televised talent competition, Britain’s New Groove, when the producers and judges made the unprecedented decision to combine two groups. Sixteen year olds Harry Styles, Liam Payne, and Niall Horan of the band White Eskimo joined forces with eighteen year olds Amy Z and Kronk of The Empress. Combining their talents, the newly formed five-piece swept away the competition. They took first place and landed a record deal. Since their start on Britain’s New Groove, the band has released three albums, numerous hit singles, and two world tours. 

Despite his distaste for manufactured pop music, Louis was willing to tag along as his sisters’ guardian so they could enjoy a fun and happy night away from the farm. They walked past hundreds of fans, already queuing on the pavement for hours, and get up to the will call window to request their tickets. The lady behind the window checks their names on the guest list and passes three laminated VIP passes through the opening in the glass. 

Daisy and Phoebe both excitedly pull the lanyards on and insist and Louis take and Instagram-worthy photo of them before they enter the building. A security guard greets them at the front door and sends them to another woman with a clipboard who then directs them to follow the signs to the meet-and-greet. 

They follow the arrows through a maze of hallways. The grey cinderblock walls and dirty epoxy flooring are not inviting, but this is just a backstage area so Louis gives the venue some slack. At least he’s not one of the people waiting outside on the pavement. There’s already a line of other VIP fans waiting in line at the end of the hall.

Louis appraises the crowd. In total there’s about thirty people in line so far. Most are younger women, like his sisters, though he spots at least two dads in the group. Daisy and Phoebe blend right in, and they seem set to ignore Louis now that he has gotten them into the event. 

Louis leans against the wall and checks his phone for the time. After standing for just five minutes, Louis is already bored. There’s at least half an hour before the meet-and-greet begins.

“Girls, I’m gonna head to the loo before this starts.” Louis says, motioning to the length of hallway they’d just walked down. Neither acknowledge him, too engrossed with whatever is on their phone screens. “I’ll be right back.” 

Louis heads back down the hall to where he remembers passing a sign for restrooms. Following the arrow down another stretch of dingy grey hallway, he finds it easily. He reaches for the door handle when the door swings open. Louis nearly walks right into the person on the other side.

“Oops,” the person says, startled by Louis. 

Louis recognizes the startled person on the other side of the door. It’s none other than Harry Styles. His face is straight out of the magazines his sisters read and the posters they hang in their rooms. He doesn’t know much about Harry other than he seems to have wild fashion sense and his pick of models hanging off his arm. 

Unlike in his sisters’ posters, he is dressed less flashy, wearing cream-colored wide-leg trousers and a soft blue sweater. His hair looks freshly styled with his signature curls looking deliberately tousled. He looks comfy and cute, and not at all what Louis expected from a pop star that usually sports sequined tops and patterned suits. Had they met in a club or matched on Grindr, Louis might have even found him attractive. But as it stands, Harry Styles is a very rich, probably straight, pop star. Louis wouldn’t be a blip on his radar.

“Hi,” Louis says dumbly, rubbing the back of his neck. He is frozen in place, unintentionally blocking the doorway. Louis is shocked to be meeting Harry Styles, front man of {band name} in the loo less than half an hour from when his sisters are supposed to meet him. They will never forgive him for this chance encounter. 

Harry glares at him. “You’re not supposed to be back here.” His voice is deep and stern.

“Oh, sorry,” Louis stammers, taken aback by the sharp tone. He backs into the hallway. “I just needed to use the restroom, didn’t realize it was for the band.”

“Why’re you backstage?” Harry shifts his weight on one foot, hip popped impudently, and crosses his arms over his chest. Louis would appreciate how toned his arms look more if he wasn’t being interrogated.

“For the meet-and-greet.” Louis holds up the VIP pass hanging on the lanyard around his neck as evidence. “I thought I’d use the loo before it started.”

Harry considers that for a moment and then asks, “You a fan?”

Louis is not really a fan of Lone Location. Though he’s heard their music enough, he couldn’t name any of their songs. But, the situation is already tense, so he doesn’t want mention that to Harry Styles. “My sisters are. They always insist on playing your albums every time I make them help out with the chores around our farm.” Louis chuckles, remembering how he plays up his annoyance every time they turn it on, just to make them laugh. In reality he doesn’t mind listening to Lone Location when they play their music, but he’d never admit it to his sisters. 

Harry doesn’t respond, only raises his eyebrow as Louis continues to ramble. “My sisters, Daisy and Phoebe, have been fans for a long time. You, know, the band’s last album really help them after our mother died. Daisy has even started to learn piano so that she can play her favorite songs.” 

“I don’t give free hand outs, even for charity cases.” Harry states flatly with an arrogant tilt to his head.

Confused and irritated, Louis scrunches up his face. “What?”

“That’s what you were getting at, right? Something for your sisters. An autograph, a personal video message, maybe even a private concert?”

Stunned by the conclusion Harry had jumped to, Louis shakes his head. “No, I—”

Harry picks at his chipped nail polish with nonchalance. “The most I can do is a picture. You want a selfie? Gimme your phone.” He looks to Louis with half-lidded eyes, holding out the palm of his ring-clad hand for the phone.

“Fuck you.” Louis spits out, stunned at the unbelievable rudeness of the man his sisters idolize. “I wasn’t asking you for anything.”

“Sure seemed like it,” Harry sneers. Harry drops his hand to his hip.

“Are you this rude to all your fans?”

“Most fans would be thrilled for a picture with me.”

“I’m not most fans. I don’t even like your music that much!” Louis throws up his arms in frustration.

“Well then, why are you here, Lewis? You should just go back to your farm if you don’t like my band.” Harry’s phone buzzes and he checks the notification on the screen. “I’ve got to run. Wouldn’t want to be late for your meet-and-greet. That would be rude,” Harry snaps sardonically. With that, Harry turns on his heel and strides down the hall and disappears through another door. 

“Fucking hell! Is he always this much of an arsehole?” Louis hisses under his breath as he pushes open the door to the restroom. After that confrontation, he’ll be damned if Harry Styles tells him he can’t use the loo.

After taking care of business, he takes some extra time to splash some water on his face. He needs a moment to cool off and put the confrontation with Harry Styles behind him before he rejoins his sisters in the queue. 

As he heads back down the hall, Louis resolves to keep the encounter to himself. He might not like Harry Styles, but his sisters still love this band. He doesn’t want to tarnish his sisters’ experience, even if their lead singer is an arrogant arsehole. 

A few more pairs have shown up, the line extending further than when he’d left. He finds his sisters easily and slides under the rope behind them. His sisters still don’t look up from their phones. He reclaims his spot leaning against the wall and pulls out his phone to waste the time. 

On the hour, the doors at the front of the line finally open and the line begins to move. They were corralled into another roped queue in an organized fashion to once again wait for the band. This time they are in a large room instead of the hallway. There is a backdrop featuring the radio station’s logo where the pictures will be taken, a young radio station intern poised with a camera to take the pictures, and another intern ready to hand out the VIP tote bags of prizes and signed posters before the fans left. The crowd is buzzing with excited anticipation as they wait.

Another ten minutes drags by before a person at the front of the room grabs the crowd’s attention. She introduces herself as Larissa, one of the hosts from the radio station hosting the meet-and-greet event. The crowd settles to listen as she welcomes everyone and explains how the event will go. Pairs of fans will be photographed with the band. They will be given 30 seconds to chat before their pictures are taken by one of the radio station’s interns. Then, the fans are handed their VIP goodie bags and concert tickets and ushered out the door. 

Louis wasn’t sure what to expect, but this wasn’t it. It’s all very mechanical and controlled. But the fans in line don’t seem to care, happy to snag a few seconds of conversation and a picture to share on Instagram. 

After the explanation, Larissa pumps up the crowd, “Alright, who’s ready to meet Lone Location?” Cheer and shouts erupt as the doors at the back of the room open. The screaming amplifies when Lone Location walk into the room. Liam Payne and Niall Horan enter first, followed by Amy Z and Kronk. Lastly, Harry Styles saunters in and the screaming amplifies as he takes his place in front of the fans. The band members smile and wave enthusiastically to the fans. All except Harry, who could just as well be standing in the produce section of the grocery store he looks so unaffected. 

Louis hates the smug smirk on Harry’s face and is annoyed that he got the loudest cheers. Don’t his fans know how rude he is? Do they not care about how selfish and arrogant he acts?

Their manager directs the band to stand at their marks in front of the backdrop. The screaming finally lets up as the first pair of fans is ushered to the backdrop. 

Louis follows behind the twins as they wind along the queue. When it’s their turn, Louis can feel eyes on him as he crosses the photo area to get out of the way behind the photographer. Goosebumps prickle on his arms at the strange feeling of being watched. He looks back to find Harry watching him closely. With the way his gaze is concentrated on Louis, he’d think Harry Styles was checking him out. Louis returns Harry’s heated stare with an equally harsh glare. Harry frowns before turning away as Louis’ sisters begin introducing themselves to the band. 

Louis is fearful that the earlier confrontation might affect his sisters’ interaction with Harry. He watches closely, but is relieved that everything goes smoothly and his sisters are both smiling widely as they arrange themselves between the band members for their picture. The photographer counts down and clicks the shutter. 

Daisy and Phoebe both thank the band one last time. They are each handed a gift bag and their tickets. Louis joins them so he can retrieve his ticket as well before they head to their seats in the stadium. 

Louis is thankful the meet-and-greet is finally over, as he cannot wait to get as far away from Harry Styles as possible. He’d be happy if he never had to see or hear from him again. But he still has to get through an entire concert. As Louis sinks into the plastic stadium seat, he sighs. He can’t help but pray the night goes by quickly.

* * *

“This is our final song, Kiwi! Give it all you’ve got! Let’s go!” Harry screams out to the crowded stadium. The band begins to play and he runs the length of the stage, pumping up the cheering crowd. As he throws up his arms, the golden sequins of his shirt shine under the bright stage lights. Sweat drips down his forehead as he raises the mic to sing the first verse. The crowd is jumping and arm-pumping, screaming back the lyrics.

He always feels so energized on stage, feeding off the energy of the fans in the crowd. The flashing lights and psychedelic visuals on the led screens at the back of the stage add to the chaotic energy swelling as the song ramps. The band goes just as hard, Kronk on the drums and Niall on bass carrying the final extended instrumental that always comes before the final chorus. Harry dances erratically, flailing his limbs and rocking out to even more cheers. 

He slides back up to his mic stand, ready to close out the final song with a flourish. Just as he starts singing, a second voice joins his in his in-ear. Damn it, Amy is doing it again! It is not the first time the lead guitarist has taken it upon herself to sing the chorus. 

Her voice is enough of a distraction to cause him to stumble, and he missed the next note. He recovers quickly, belting louder in his mic hoping to drown her out. But the damage is already done. In that instant, Harry’s mood completely shifts. It’s no longer a fantastic concert and he’s no longer playing off the energy of the crowd. Harry is enraged that Amy caused him to slip. He glares at her from across the stage. 

Instead of backing down, Amy sings louder, taking over the final lines of the chorus. Some observant fans at the front notice the exchange, aiming their phones at Amy instead of Harry to capture the altered performance. 

Harry needs to get the attention of the fans away from Amy. Thinking quick, he grabs a feather boa from one of the fans at the barricade. He begins waving the ends of the pink feathers wildly as he skips across the stage.

The crowd erupts in the loud screams and it works in directing attention away from Amy. All the cameras are trained on him. Amy’s smile falls as she recognizes her defeat and Harry feels reenergized.

Harry gets ready to close out the concert with his signature move. He pulls the pink boa off his neck, dropping it near Kronk’s drum set. Then he takes a drink of water, holding the water in his mouth in preparation for the spray he always finishes Kiwi with. Harry dances his way to center stage. The song reaches its finale he blows out the water in a fine spray just before the lights go out. The entire stage is flashed into a second of blackness. When the lights are brought back up, the band bows to the crowd. Amy tosses her picks to the crowd and Kronk throws his drumsticks. 

Harry doesn’t stick around on stage. He rushes behind the curtain and barrels past the crewmembers waiting to take down the stage. He heads off to their green room in need of a strong drink. How dare Amy fucking steal his show like that! He’s sick of her butting in and stealing his stage. 

He can’t stop playing that missed note and the pitchy high voice of Amy joining his in his in-ear. The concert had been going well until she’d inserted herself. 

He barely gets into the green room before he is stripping off his sweaty sequined shirt, dropping it without a care. Someone else will pick it up and put it with the rest of his wardrobe. He looks over to the side of the room, where catering has set up an array of foods and drinks. The catering assistant stands up straighter when his eyes land on him. 

“Get me a drink.” Harry demands. 

Liam and Niall come into the room, heading straight for the food, filling up plates as they do after every show. 

“Hey H, good show!” Niall raises a hand for a high five. Harry ignores it.

“Would’ve been if Amy had kept her mouth shut.” Harry says. 

Niall and Liam choose not to react, preferring to stay out of the tensions between Amy and Harry. The power struggle had started early on in the band, but this most recent tour has them butting heads more often than not. Tonight was not the first time Amy had chosen to sing lead. 

Liam gives him a tight smile, then says. “Well, we’re headed off to the bus. See you later, H.” 

Harry waves them off. He is finally handed his drink and throws it back, drinking half in one go. 

He hears Amy enter the green room before he sees her. 

“Kronk, get me my bag!” she orders. 

Kronk complies, as he always does, quickly fetching her bag from the corner of the room. He hands over the bag and then takes off for the food table. Glass bottles clank inside the bag as she sets it onto the table. Amy never goes long without her special vials, claiming they are her homemade health supplements to keep her hair shiny, her skin smooth, and her voice pitch-perfect.

Amy opens the zipper and digs around inside, pulling out the vials of pink potions and reading each label. The first three aren’t the one she’s looking for. She keeps digging. She swears the one she needs always ends up at the bottom of her bag. 

She pulls out another vial of glowing pink liquid. “Ah ha!” she exclaims. She uncorks the little vial drinks the contents. 

Harry sets down his half empty drink. The alcohol is starting to hit, buzzing like a live electrical current through his veins and flaring his anger. The potent anger clashes with his post-show adrenaline fueling him as he storms over, shouting, “What the fuck was that tonight?” 

Amy bats her long false eyelashes, feigning innocence. “Whatever do you mean?” 

Why were you singing my part?”

“Argh! You are so selfish!” Amy throws her arms up. “You’re not the only singer in the band.”

It’s an argument they’ve rehashed over and over. The lines they spit at each other are almost scripted at this point. They all have their roles in the band, but Amy is never satisfied to be just the lead guitar. Amy still craves the fame and attention of being center stage. 

“It sounded awful and you caused me to miss my note. We didn’t fucking practice that! You need to stick with what we rehearsed.”

“Yeah, right!” she sneers sarcastically. “If I stuck to what we rehearse I’d never get to sing. You never let anyone else sing!”

“I’m the lead singer! It’s my job to sing! You’re the guitarist, you should stick to that.”

“Heaven forbid you give a sliver of the spotlight to someone else.”

“You want the spotlight, then start your own band!”

They both know there is no way for them to split without breaking contracts. Ever since the producers of Britain's New Groove merged their two bands, they’ve been forced to work together. They’d merged their styles and preferences, argued about instrumental arrangements and harmonies and made compromises on everything from set lists to stage outfits and in the studio. Working together was the only way to maintain their fame and fortune. Breaking a contract with BNG would mean sure death to their music career. 

“I deserve the spotlight as much as you!”

“Whatever.” He doesn’t need to stick around for this. He turns and walks out without another glance at Amy or Kronk, and heads to the bus. 

“I can’t believe him! Leave the band! As if I even could! Argh!” Amy screams. 

Needing an outlet for all her pent up frustration, Amy paces around the room. After a few laps, she catches sight of Harry’s smug face, printed large and glossy on huge paper. Hundreds of signed posters left over from the VIP meet-and-greet are stacked on one of the tables. Sure, the rest of the band is also printed on the poster, but Amy focuses on how Harry is front and center, the focal point of the image. It’s always Harry that gets the attention. She grabs the posters and begins tearing and crumpling each poster. She ruins them one-by-one, making sure to destroy Harry’s face in each one. 

“Who does that ungrateful little worm have any idea who he’s dealing with?” She watches gleefully as the poster in her hands tears with satisfying sound, splits Harry’s face in two. “I practically hold this band together.” She swipes at another stack of posters, scattering them to the floor. She picks up another poster and continues to tear them. “The band would be nothing without me! He wouldn’t last a day without my backing vocals to highlight his voice.”

Kronk looks up from his plate of fried chicken. “At least you’re destroying posters and not actually taking your anger out on Harry,” Kronk jokes. 

Amy stops mid tear, the poster split right down the middle of Harry’s nose. She glances down at his pompous expression in the glossy print. “That’s it, Kronk! I could take out Harry!” The half ripped poster falls from her hand, forgotten as she resumes pacing around the room. 

Amy stomps around the room, formulating a plan. “If I take him out of the band, they won’t have a choice except to put me as the lead! Those other three boys can’t hold a note if their lives depended on it.” 

“But—” Kronk tries to interject.

“How does one take out the world’s biggest pop star?” She brings her fingers up to her chin in thought. 

“Umm—” 

“Oh, I know! I’ll turn him into a frog. A harmless little frog. I’ll put that frog in a box. Then, I’ll put that box inside a larger box. Then, I’ll set that box in front of the tour bus and I’ll drive over it!” She laughs maniacally. “It’s brilliant! Genius, I say!” She grabs another stack of posters and tosses them up, letting them rain down over the room. 

“Uh, Amy?” Kronk asks. Amy just keeps talking over him.

“Or, to save time, I could just poison him.” Amy shrugs. 

She steps over the mess of destroyed posters and plops down on the couch. All of this plotting is very draining, especially after their long set and the fight with Harry after. She bends down to unbuckle the uncomfortable straps of her purple high heels.

She kicks off her shoes and leans back into the couch, sighing in frustration. She’d thought after years in the band she would have gained fame on the same level as Harry. But that hasn’t been the case. Interviewers, columnists, and even fans always prefer Harry. She is fed up with being seen as only the guitarist. She wants her chance to shine. If she kills Harry, she can take his place as front of the band where she belongs. Amy is determined to get out from behind Harry’s shadow once and for all.

Kronk joins her on the couch. She throws her feet onto his lap and demands foot rub. “I’m the only one they make wear those dreaded high heels. You have it so easy.” Kronk begins to rub her feet as she thinks through the details of her diabolical plan. The band has three days off before their next show. It would be a perfect time for her to dispose of Harry and take her place as the lead singer of Lone Location once and for all. 

An hour later, the crew has finished packing up the main stage and has moved backstage to pack up the rest of the gear. Kronk had fallen asleep while giving her a foot massage, and she’d finished her plan to take out Harry Styles.

She has to commence her plan tonight, before the tour buses take off toward London. If she doesn’t do it tonight, there’s no telling when the next chance will be. 

Her plan is simple. She needs to get him away from his bus, where Liam or Niall might suspect something. To convince Harry to come over to her and Kronk’s tour bus for a bit, she’ll lie and say it’s to apologize. Then, she can offer him a drink, but his drink will be poisoned and that will be the end of Harry Styles!

Amy wakes up Kronk and they head back to their bus. She showers and changes into comfy clothes quickly then she sends Kronk to invite Harry over with promises of drinks and an apology.

With her long, black, hair twisted up in a fluffy purple towel to dry, Amy steps out of the small bathroom. Kronk is sat at the small kitchenette table at the front of the bus.

“Kronk, is Harry coming over?” Amy asks, ready to get the action started.

“Yeah, he’ll be over in a few minutes.” Kronk responds.

“Good. Can you get the _you know_.” 

“Oh riiight, the poison. The poison for Harry. The poison chosen especially to kill Harry. Harry’s poison.” He points to Amy’s bag, where he left it near the drink cabinet. “That poison?”

“Yes, that poison!” Amy slaps a palm to her face. It’s a wonder she puts up with the bumbling drummer when he can be so dense.

Kronk grabs the vial out of the bag and holds the tiny vial up in his hand. “Gotcha.” 

Amy rolls her eyes. “Excellent. Just remember to put a few drops in his drink when he gets here.”

Just then the door to their bus opens and Harry clambers up the steep stairs. Amy steps away from Kronk, adding distance to appear as if their incriminating conversation hadn’t happened. Kronk palms the vial of poison and hides his fist behind his back. 

“Hey Harry.” Amy greets, putting on her most charming wide smile and widening her eyes to feign innocence. She slides into the seat at the table and motions for Harry to sit across from her. 

“Kronk, get Harry a drink.” Amy raises her eyebrows meaningfully, hoping that Kronk won’t screw up his one simple task in her plan to kill Harry.

“Right. Riiight.” Kronk winks at her and turns to the liquor cabinet. The bus is silent and tense, only the sound of Kronk shaking a cocktail filling the space. Neither Harry nor Amy wants to be the first to talk. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy watches Kronk pull the cork from the vial of poison. She breathes a sigh of relief. At least he remembered to do that. 

Kronk brings over two glasses, setting one frosty glass in front of Harry the other in front of Amy. Amy decides to break the awkward silence. It pains her to say an apology, even though she doesn’t mean any of it. But she could have made it as an actress if the music thing hadn’t worked out, so she turns up her acting charm, puts on her best apologetic tone, and sells her apology to her audience of one soon-to-be-dead pop star. 

“So, Harry. Thanks for coming over. I wanted to apologize for earlier tonight. I really stepped out of line during the show. I’m really sorry.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. She continues. “I know you’re the lead singer, so I shouldn’t sing over your parts. It’s not good for the band or for the fans and it hurts when we fight. So, I’m want put this behind us and I hope we can move past it. For the good of the band.”

“Okay,” Harry says, a note of skepticism in his voice. 

Harry reaches a hand toward his glass. Amy holds her breath in anticipation of him taking a drink. But instead, Harry just traces the rim of the glass with one finger. Round and round, the tip of his finger glides across the glass, but he never picks it up to drink. The bus has fallen into silence again. Amy could pull her hair out. 

Why isn’t he drinking his cocktail? 

Needing to ensure he drinks before he figures out that something is amiss, Amy improvises. She grabs her drink and raises it. “Let’s make a toast. To Lone Location!”

“To Lone Location.” Harry repeats half-heartedly, still a note of uncertainty in his voice. Harry and Amy clink glasses. Harry takes a big gulp, downing the whole drink in one go. He slams the empty glass down on the table with a clang. Then his face falls into the table. His body slumps forward in the chair, completely lifeless. 

“Finally!” Amy cheers. “Good work Kronk. Now to get rid of the body.”

Suddenly, Harry’s head pops up. 

“What’s happening?” He slurs, disoriented.

“Huh?” Amy is shocked. “Oh uhm, we were just toasting to the success of our band.”

“Right” Harry says. Ears sprout from his head. Not human ears, but long, fuzzy, white animal-like ears that stick out from the mop of curls. Amy’s eyes widen in shock. This isn’t supposed to happen. 

Kronk leans in closer to Harry’s head, examining the strange ears that just magically appeared. 

“So, you’re not going to sing over me anymore?” Harry asks, sounding more alert and picking up the conversation as if he hadn’t just passed out at the table. Harry’s face elongates and broadens as he talks. His features distort in a bizarre and unnatural way. It’s grotesque, but Amy can’t look away from the odd reaction her potion is having on Harry. Not trusting her voice to respond, she nods slowly in response to his question.

“That’s great. I’m glad you realized where your strengths lie within the band. I just don’t think you’ve got the same charismatic ability to lead the band and it wouldn’t work out.” He keeps babbling on. His hands morph into hooves and his arms extend, stretching into knobby limbs. Fur sprouts from his skin. Soft white fur covers his face and arms, spotted with black fur where each of his tattoos had been. The change is rapid, though Harry doesn’t seem to notice the change at all. 

Panicking, Amy signals to Kronk with hand gestures to hit Harry over the head. It takes him a second to figure out her signal but finally he understands. Kronk grabs the nearest bottle of vodka and smashes it over Harry’s head. The bottle shatters, drenching a now-unconscious Harry in vodka.

His body, slumps forward again. Amy and Kronk stare in disbelief at the weird, half-mutated atrocity that Harry has morphed into. 

“What! A cow? He’s supposed to be dead!” Amy shouts.

“Yeah, weird?” Kronk’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Let me see that vial.” Amy goes over to the counter where Kronk mixed their drinks. There’s one uncapped and empty vial laying on the counter. She picks it up and reads the label “This isn’t poison. This is extract of bovine! Ugh!” 

“You know, in my defense, your poisons all look the same.” Kronk shrugs. 

Amy takes the empty vial and her bag, gathering up all the evidence. “Take him out of town and finish the job.” Amy waves back at the lifeless figure. She stomps back to the bunk area of the bus, unwilling to deal any further with the mess Kronk caused. She trusts that he can at least be able to handle getting rid of an unconscious Harry without a problem. 

Kronk hoists Harry over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He shuffles down the stairs of the bus, accidentally smacking Harry’s head against the door frame. “Woops. At least he isn’t awake to feel that.” 

Kronk sneaks back behind the bus and away from the venue. It’s like a spy mission! Kronk whistles the Mission Impossible theme to himself as he creeps along one of the walls stealthily. But as he continues on, it becomes harder and harder to hold onto Harry. His body has continued to morph, becoming more cow-like with each minute. Kronk struggles to maintain his hold on Harry’s bony hips and Harry slips from his grasp. 

“Woops!” Kronk exclaims. Harry’s human torso has lengthened and his shoulders broadened. And there’s a little stub of a tail peeking out from under his shirt. He undeniably looks more like a calf than a man. Kronk can’t carry a calf! 

Kronk looks around frantically for a solution. There, by one of the back doors of the venue is a golf cart. That should work. Kronk rushes over to the cart. Thankfully, someone left their keys in the ignition. He steers the cart over to Harry and hoists him into the back seat. He tears out of the parking lot. 

Hoping to find a nice wooded park area or a river, he drives away from the venue. The further he drives, the more Harry changes, completing the strange magical transition into a baby calf. His neck and hips extend at strange angles from his long, bony spine. The stub of a tail stretches out, hanging limply against his side. Fur continues to grow into a thick black and white coat. His eyelashes extend and darken around large rounded eyes. 

He would be a cute calf, Kronk thinks, if he didn’t know that he used to be his bandmate. He turns the corner down another road, driving through a dark alley into an open car park. He doesn’t get very far before the golf cart putters to a stop. The cart ran out of battery. 

He didn’t make it to a park and he isn’t sure he’d make it very far even if he could carry Harry. Carrying a cow through the city is too inconspicuous and he is sure to be noticed.

Unsure of what to do, Kronk gets out of the cart and looks around. He bites his knuckle anxiously, trying to come up with a solution. He feels a shiver run up his spine and then his Shoulder Angel and Devil appear. 

“Listen up, big guy,” Shoulder Devil says. “You should just walk away.” 

“No, no.” Shoulder Angel interrupts. “You cannot just walk away and leave him out here.”

“But why not? It’s easy. No one will recognize Harry Styles, anyway. He’s a cow!” 

“He’s unconscious! The least you could do is make sure he’s safe.” Shoulder Angel counters.

“You and your morals.” Shoulder Devil scoffs. “What do you propose he does then?”

Shoulder Angels glances around the car park, noting that he is in a car park of a 24/7 diner. There are several cars parked under one flickering street lamp. One of them is a blue pickup truck. There is a bumper sticker on the back that says “Support your local farmer” next to a drawing of a pig. 

“There.” Shoulder Angel points. “That truck is a farmer. They would know what to do with a cow.”

“I guess that would work.” Kronk says.

“Well, if you’re going to listen to that guy, I’m out. Peace!” Shoulder Devil poofs out of existence. 

“Wow, rude.” Shoulder Angel says. “Anyway, you need anything else?”

“No, I think I’m good.” Kronk says. With that, Shoulder Angel also poofs back to wherever he came from and Kronk is left alone in the car park again. 

He decides to listen to Shoulder Angel for once, realizing that his advice might actually be useful in this instance. Kronk dumps the unconscious cow into the back of the truck. 

With Harry taken care of. Kronk takes off running for the venue. He hadn’t gotten more than a few blocks when the golf cart had quit. 

He stumbles back into the bus, ready to put the night behind him. Kronk goes to the kitchenette in search of a glass of water, thirsty after his long run. 

The bus door opens and Pacha, the bus driver boards. “Heya Kronk!” Good show tonight,” he says. 

“Thanks!” Kronk replies.

“Ready to hit the road?”

“Sure thing!” Kronk lifts his water glass in agreement.

Pacha chuckles and settles into his seat. The bus roars to life and takes off down the motorway.

* * *

After the concert, Louis takes his sisters to diner just a few blocks from the concert venue. They hadn’t eaten since lunch, and Louis needed some coffee before the long drive. It’s just past midnight when they stumble out of the diner, ready to head home. They climb up into his truck and hit the road. Louis doesn’t usually like driving this late at night, but they also couldn’t afford a night in a hotel.

They make good time and the girls sleep through most of the trip. When they pull up next to the barn, Louis wakes the twins and they blearily make the walk back to the house and up to bed. Louis is still too awake from the stiff diner coffee. He’s usually more a tea person, and the large dose of caffeine is still flowing through his veins. 

Since it’s a nice night out, and he won’t be able to sleep anyway, Louis decides to check on the animals before turning in. The animals are quiet inside the barn, unused to getting attention after nightfall. Louis flinches as the creaky barn door swings open, hoping he didn’t wake any of them. Louis makes one round, checking on Snowflake the horse, Blossom the cow, Gerald the goat, and Brick and Mortar the pigs. They are all doing fine after his day away from the farm. Satisfied, Louis exits the barn and shuts the door behind him.

A quiet moan startles him as he walks passed his truck. He freezes in place, unsure where the sound is coming from. Maybe there’s a coyote in the field or an injured cat by the barn. He hears the noise again. It is a deeper, longer moan, almost like Blossom. But, she had been sleeping in her stall when he’d just checked on her. 

He’s about to go back into the barn to check on Blossom, he hears something move in his truck. The sounds are definitely coming from his truck bed. He approaches with caution, looking over the side slowly to not startle whatever is in there. 

There’s a calf. It’s laying on its side, limbs splayed out in four directions. The calf picks up its head and moans again, this time sounding even more like a moo than before. It startles itself at the sound and scrambles against the back of the truck. 

“Ow, my head.” The calf says, bringing its hooves to its head in an all too human-like manner. 

“Oh my god” Louis exclaims.

“Ahhhh!”

“Ahhh!” They both scream, staring at each other. 

“Demon cow!” Louis backs up, back to the barn. He must be hallucinating. How strong was that diner coffee?

“Ahh, demon cow? Where?” The calf scrambles to stand up, spilling out of the back of the truck and landing hard in the dirt. It struggles to get it’s legs underneath it. Once standing, the calf awkwardly runs, tripping over its quadruped gait. It stumbles again, and to stay upright it leans against the side of the truck with its face pressed up against the door. 

Catching a glimpse of itself in the side mirror, the cow screams again. “Ahh! My face, my beautiful face! I’m a stinky cow. Cow face.”

Louis stays still, but the cow sees his reflection in the mirror behind him.

The cow whips it’s head around, staring angrily at Louis. Or at least as angrily as a calf with big innocent eyes can. It’s one of the least intimidating looks Louis has ever seen. Louis puts his hands up, talking in a calm voice “Hey there, little cow. Easy, easy.”

Then the cow’s brow wrinkles in confusion, eyes narrowing more as they focus on Louis.

“You! What did you do to me!”

“Uh?” Louis is stumped. This demon cow is advancing on him, stalking him like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. 

“It’s you. From the back stage restroom. You’re Lewis, right? You’re angry because I wouldn’t give you a free concert. So, you thought you’d get some revenge? Huh?”

“It’s Louis. What, wait! What are you talking about?” Louis’ blinks rapidly in disbelief. 

The cow continues, advancing toward him with every accusation. “Thought you could just kidnap me and take me to your farm? Show me off and turn a profit?”

And then it clicks. The back stage restroom. His encounter with Harry Styles. Their heated argument. “Harry Styles?!”

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t know. Why else would I be in your truck?”

“Holy shit. You’re a cow. Harry Styles is a fucking cow.” Louis mutters to himself, dragging a hand through his hair anxiously.

“Yeah, real smart. You should’ve figured that out when you _turned me into a cow!_ ”

“I didn’t do this to you!”

“You’re the criminal mastermind. Wait, that’s giving you too much credit. You must have paid someone to do this to me!”

“How can you be this way? All you care about is yourself, your money, and your fame. You know, someday you’re going to wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” 

“Thanks for that, I’ll log that away.”

Harry starts to wander away, down the path.

“Where are you going?” Louis asks.

“Back to the venue. I have to catch the bus so I can get home.”

Louis hesitates to help Harry, especially with his incessant rudeness. But he also can’t, in good conscience, let him wander around as a cow. “Well, that might be a problem. The venue is two hours west of here.” Louis points with his thumb over his shoulder.

“What? I was just— but we— Where did you take me?”

“Calm down. I didn’t take you. I don’t know how you got into my truck. But I can’t let you go, especially as a cow. You can hardly stand on your own.”

“I can too.” Harry says planting his legs firmly and puffing out his chest. Then his tail swishes to his left and it startles him when whaps his flank. 

“Wahh!” he screams, flailing his limbs until he lands, splayed out on the dirt. 

Louis laughs. “Told ya so.” 

“Fine. Then show me to my room. You can take me to London in the morning.”

“London?”

“Yeah. We have a three day break before the next set of shows. I need to be back in London before then. And, I had better be a human again, too.” Harry struts by sassily swinging his hips, only stumbling a little on the packed gravel. 

Louis goes to open the door to the barn, ready to show Harry into one of the vacant stalls inside. Harry puts on the brakes, planting his feet and refusing to move. He looks back at the farmhouse. “I am not staying in the barn.”

“You can’t stay in the house. I have too many nosy siblings.” Louis pushes open the door. It creaks loudly as it swings wide.

Harry looks like he’s about to argue so Louis tacks on, “And they are all big fans of yours. Would hate for word to get out on Twitter that the world’s biggest pop star is currently a stinky baby calf.” Louis smirks knowing he’s won this argument.

Harry drops his head and follows him inside the barn with his tail between his legs. 

Morning comes, bright and early. As Louis rolls over in bed, he recalls why he barely got three hours of sleep. There’s a pop star-turned-calf in his barn. What did he do to deserve this fate?

Louis groans and peels himself out of bed to prepare for the long day of driving ahead of him. He whips up breakfast for his siblings and puts together an excuse to leave for London while he’s at it. 

Once they’ve all sat down at the table to eat, Louis says, “Hey girls, I need to run to London for some farm supplies. Can you watch Ernest and Doris today?”

Phoebe rolls her eyes and Daisy whines, “Do we have to?”

“I’ll let you skip farm chores for a week.” Louis bribes.

“Fine.” Phoebe says. 

With that settled, he decides to enjoy his breakfast before he has to go out to face the rude pop star in the barn. But as he eats, Daisy and Phoebe are unusually jittery, whispering back and forth as they try to hide their phones beneath the table. Louis decides to be lenient on the no phones at the table rule, not wanting to stir up drama with his sisters right before he leaves them to babysit the younger twins. But, when neither have picked up a fork after five minutes, Louis finally asks “What’s up girls?”

Both heads snap up, aware that they’ve been caught using their phones. They give him strange, sad looks. 

“Harry Styles is missing.” Phoebe informs him.

Louis drops his fork. It clatters onto his plate and flings scrambled egg onto the floor. Their dog, Clifford is quick to clean it up. Louis tries to act natural, but what is natural for this situation? How does one behave when a missing pop star is sleeping in your barn because he’d been turned into a calf?

Louis clears his throat. “Oh, that’s strange.”

“Yeah. They don’t know what happened. It says that Liam and Niall thought he was with Kronk and Amy, while Amy and Kronk thought he was with Liam and Niall. So they drove away without him on the bus and now they can’t find him and he won’t answer his phone.” 

“Well, I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere. You know how those crazy pop stars are. Maybe he just got drunk and passed out somewhere.” Louis says with a bit of sarcasm. 

He needs to read through the news reports for himself. But his siblings would definitely get suspicious if he showed any interest in the band. Louis speeds through the rest of breakfast and leaves the dishes in the sink for later.

He rushes upstairs and opens his laptop, googling Harry Styles. The top results are all the major news outlets with ominous headlines fearing the worst. Louis reads through a few articles that all say roughly the same thing that his sisters had said. 

The news had spread fast and all the fans seem as worried as his sisters had been. There are several hashtags trending worldwide, including #findharry and #weloveharry. 

He clicks the link to the official band Twitter with the blue check mark. There latest tweet is a statement about Harry. “The band can confirm that Harry Styles, lead singer, has been missing since midnight 28th of June after the band’s most recent concert. The authorities have been notified and are doing everything in their power to assist with the search for Styles. The band will keep everyone updated via official channels.” 

Then, Louis checks the other members’ accounts. Unsurprisingly, Kronk, Liam, and Niall all have not posted anything about Harry. Though, Louis is surprised to find Kronk’s Twitter is oddly bare of Lone Location mentions. Instead it is filled with pictures of squirrels and links to recipe blogs. It is weird. But Louis is getting off topic. 

He searches for Amy Z’s account. Hers is more helpful. It seems she has been online, retweeting the official band statement tweet, along with a few fan tweets as well. She has also liked a whole slew of tweets. The first few are all similar, featuring various hashtags for Harry, but further down there’s a new hashtag catches Louis’ attention, #LetAmyZsing. There’s only the one tweet, and it stands out in the sea of hashtags about Harry. He clicks through the hashtag and falls down a rabbit hole of fandom. 

He reads through a few dozen tweets with the same hashtag, most from days or weeks ago. They all argue that Amy Z should be given more freedom in the band. The little grey icon “New Tweets” shows up. He refreshes the page and a new one pops up, a long thread with hashtags for #LetAmyZsing and #HarryStylesismissing. One of the tweets in the thread has a screenshot of a recently deleted set of tweets from Amy Z herself. The original tweet says “I hope they find Harry before my London show #findharry” Amy Z replied “Don’t worry, the show will go on”. The thread claims that Amy Z knows what happened to Harry Styles, and might even be responsible.

Louis reads the thread twice over, and thinks it’s the most promising lead he’s got. He gathers his phone, ready to show Harry the evidence. Even if it’s not true, at least it might get Harry Styles off his back, because if there is one thing he’s sure of, it’s that he did not turn Harry Styles into a cow.

* * *

Harry is pacing the length of the barn, hooves clacking against the concrete with every step. He spent an entire night in the barn. Yes, a barn! with animals and manure. How did this happen! And oh yeah, he’s a fucking cow! He’s going to sue this farmer or something, if he ever gets back into his human body.

He’s just turned to make another lap when the barn door creaks open and Louis walks in. “Morning, sunshine!” Louis says.

“Ready to turn me back into a human yet?”

“You know I can’t do that. I don’t know how you became a cow in the first place.” 

Harry huffs a breath through his wide nose. 

“I do have some news for you though. Seems that your band has figured out you’ve gone missing.”

“Great! We can call them up and they’ll come and save me!”

“Hold on. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course you don’t. You wouldn’t want to get caught, since you _kidnapped me_.”

“Once again, I did not kidnap you. Or, turn you into a cow. But, I might have an idea who did.”

Harry cocks his head to the side, staring at him quizzically. 

“I checked Twitter to see what was going on after my sisters told me they announced you were missing.” Louis pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the Twitter app. He first shows Harry the band’s statement. 

Harry raises his hoof to scroll, but the touchscreen doesn’t read the touch. 

Harry huffs in annoyance. “Let me see the trends.” 

Louis switches over to the trends tab holding the phone out for Harry to see.

“Good, good. That’s a lot of hashtags.”

“Do you even care about what I said before? That I might know who did this to you?”

“Well, yeah. But, it’s not every day you are the top five trending hashtags on Twitter.”

“You are so full of yourself.”

“Whatever. Okay, what did you want to show me?”

Louis types in Amy Z’s Twitter handle into the search bar. He shows it to Harry, showing him the tweets, replies, and likes. “And this is important why?”

“I was reading her liked tweets earlier and there was one about #LetAmyZsing. so, I did a little digging and found this…” He opens the thread and lets Harry read the tweets, scrolling with his finger each time Harry tries to with his own useless hoof. 

“Huh.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say? Huh? Your bandmate probably just turned you into a cow and you aren’t furious. But you could be mad at me for hours when you thought I’d done it.” Louis throws up his arms in exasperation. Harry Styles is a conundrum, a problem he cannot solve in both human and cow form. He just needs to get him back to London so he doesn’t have to deal with this any longer. 

Harry thinks a bit harder, face scrunching in concentration. “Oh yeah! We had an argument. We are always arguing, really, but this was one of the worst. She sang during the concert. After, she invited me to her bus to apologize.” Harry gasps as he remembers going to the other bus. “I bet it was the drink!” Harry starts frantically pacing around the barn again. “I thought it was weird. We’ve been arguing since that band was put together and she’d never back down. Oh my god! Amy tried to kill me! Had me turned into a cow! She’s gonna pay for this!” 

Harry stomps out of the barn, but Louis stops him. “If you’re gonna get to London, you’re gonna want to drive, we’re almost four hours away.” 

“Argh. Alright then.”

Louis leads him to the farm truck. The livestock trailer is already hitched up from when he’d had to take Brick to the vet last week. He unlatches the door, pulls out a short ramp, and motions for Harry to climb aboard. 

“I’m not getting in that.” Harry says stubbornly. “It’s dirty. And, there’s no air con.” 

“You’re too large to sit in the truck with me.” 

“Fine. But, can you at least put some nice blankets down first?” 

“You’re such a diva.” Louis rolls his eyes, but figures it’s a small compromise for not having to sit in the cab with a complaining cow for the whole drive down. 

He gathers an arm load of spare quilts from the linen cupboard in the farmhouse. He spreads them out, padding the bottom of the trailer nicely. Then he directs Harry up the ramp before shutting and latching the door. 

The first half of their journey goes by uneventful. Traffic is not too thick and Louis makes good time. But a little over an hour into their journey, things take a turn. There’s a detour on his normal route while the road is being repaved. He wishes he would have known about the detour in advance, preferring to know how far out of the way it will take him. Driving an unplanned route always makes Louis nervous, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. 

A few kilometers down the detoured route, he hits another snag. The truck rattles and vibrates oddly along the stretch of straight road. Louis checks his mirrors. The trailer is shaking and bouncing chaotically. He hears Harry through the closed windows, mooing and screaming as the trailer bounces him around. A flat tire. Just great! 

Louis steers the truck onto the narrow shoulder of the road and hops out of the cab, ready to assess the damage. The rear tire of the trailer is shredded, bits of black rubber left hanging on the metal rim. Fuck! He was not prepared to deal with a flat tire today. 

After checking the tire, he decides it’s best to check on his cargo, even though he’d rather not. He would prefer to ignore the screaming cow in the back, but that would be mean. He unlatches the door and swings it open. Harry curled in a corner, ears forward and alert. He’s trembling and his tail is wrapped tightly against his side. He quiets down once he sees Louis. 

“Hey, looks like we hit a snag. Just a flat tire.” Louis tries to play off the flat tire as a minor inconvenience, thought he knows it will add at least another hour onto their trip. “Are you okay?”

Harry slowly clambers to a standing position, wobbly knees protesting and hooves getting tangled in the mess of quilts. He finally stands and walks to the front of the trailer. He looks at Louis with what he can only assume is the cow’s version of a piteous pout. “It was awful. The trailer was bouncing everywhere, I got tossed back and forth. I’m going to have bruises all over. Not to mention how hot and windy it was even before all that. This trailer sucks.” He scrapes his front hoof against the rusted metal floor. 

“Sorry,” Louis says sympathetically, knowing that being tosses around in a trailer couldn’t have been much fun. 

“Wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me ride in the truck with you.” Harry says.

“You’re too big for the seat. It will be very uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Harry rolls his eyes. After a moment of tense silence Harry looks back up at Louis from under his dense long eyelashes. “So, can you fix it?”

“I don’t have a spare.”

“Oh my god, what are we going to do?” Harry jumps down from the trailer and begins pacing around on the shoulder of the road in a panic. He turns his head this way and that, searching for a building, a street sign, a landmark, anything to show where he’s been stranded. “You got us stuck out in the middle of nowhere!” 

“Harry. Harry, hey. Calm down. It’s okay.” Louis holds out his hands, trying to settle the frantic pop star as he would any unsettled animal. It seems to work, Harry pauses, panting to catch his breath. 

“It’s alright. I’m going to call my friend and he’ll bring a spare. We just have to sit tight ‘til he gets here.”

Harry looks skeptical, but he remains calm and quiet as Louis pulls out his phone to make the call. Luckily, Zayn picks up on the first ring. Louis explains his flat tire and describes their location and then Zayn agrees that he will drive down with a spare trailer tire and the necessary tools. Louis breathes a sigh of relief as he hangs up, thankful that Zayn was available. 

Louis relief is short lived, as Harry pipes up as soon as Louis pockets his phone. “So, when is your friend going to get here?”

“Zayn should be here in a little over an hour. He lives on the farm next to mine, and he’s leaving as soon as he’s got the tire and tools packed up.” Harry looks like he’s about to complain so Louis suggests they sit in the shade of one of the nearby trees while they wait. 

An hour has never felt so long. Every few minutes Harry huffs a bored sigh through his snout. Louis tries to ignore it, instead focusing on his phone and checking Twitter for any further updates to the search for Harry Styles. When Harry huffs again, Louis wants to pull out his hair. “Would you stop that!” 

“Stop what?” Harry asks.

“Sighing like that. Can’t you just sit and be quiet? Enjoy some nature or something.”

“Easy for you to say, you can scroll through your phone while you wait.” Harry says. He drops his head down on his outstretched limbs again, his ears falling down, looking defeated. “I don’t even know where my phone is.”

Louis hadn’t even thought of that. Louis considers just how foreign and strange it must be for Harry, suddenly waking up in an unknown place while inhabiting an entirely new body, not remembering at first how any of it’d happened. And now he’s stuck as a baby cow without knowing when, or if, he will ever change back.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says softly.

“What are you sorry for?” Harry turns his head, eyes softening.

“Well, I’ve never been turned into an animal before. I can’t imagine it’s been easy or fun for you. I guess I’m just sorry that I can’t help you more.”

“You’re helping me now, though. Even after I was really rude to you earlier.” After a moment, Harry adds, “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have blamed you for this.”

“I get it.” Louis nods. They fall into companionable silence, sitting under the shade tree and waiting for Zayn. Louis resumes scrolling through Twitter on his phone, this time angling it so Harry can see the screen as well. Occasionally, Harry’s ear twitches away a fly. 

There’s no new developments and the authorities are still searching for the missing pop star. There’s just over 48 hours left for Harry to show up before they will have to cancel the next Lone Location show. 

“How much longer until Zayn gets here?” Harry asks, his ear swatting away another pesky fly.

Louis checks the time. “Probably ten minutes or so.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go stretch my legs.” Harry wobbles up onto all fours. He walks off toward the open wheat field behind them. He takes off at a run once he hits softer grass in the ditch along the field, adding a few hops and skips for good measure as he prances along. Now that Harry has time to properly use his new bovine legs, he learns fast. He becomes more stable and surer of himself, and he only falls once when he trips over a mole hole. 

Harry enjoys the movements of his new muscles and the speed he can manage with four legs. Running through the long grass is the most carefree and happy Harry has felt in so long. It’s vastly different from being cooped up for hours in the tour bus and it’s almost as amazing as prancing across the stage in front of hundreds of fans. Setting aside all the worries of not being in his own body and how he’ll turn back into his human self as he runs. Enjoying all the new sensations and the freedom to just exist in the moment.

After running back and forth in the ditch for a few minutes, Harry slows to a walk when he spots a wild rose bush. He trots up to examine the beautiful pink blooms. They smell amazing and are so pretty. If he had his human hands, he’d consider picking some, maybe even tucking one of the delicate pink flowers into his hair. But as a cow, it would be near impossible for him to pick a flower with either hooves or teeth without damaging it. 

Harry resumes prancing in circles until he’s breathless and tired. He looks back to the tree Louis is under. He’d ran quite far but could still see Louis leaned back under the branches. Harry starts to make his way back. His stomach grumbles as he walks back. Harry remembers reading something about how cows have four stomachs, does that mean he now has three additional stomachs? How strange! 

Curious and hungry, Harry tries some grass. He tears up a mouthful of the green blades and chews. It’s not bad, but does lack flavor. He chews up the leaves, grinding them between his teeth as he walks until he spots a patch of white clover flowers. The petals are sweet and sugary. He eats as many of them as he can find, enjoying the delicious treat.

His floppy ears perk up as he hears a distant rumble. The rumble grows louder and a vehicle appear on the road, coming closer. The beat-up red truck pulls up behind Louis’ trailer. Louis jumps up to greet his friend with a familiar hug. 

Harry trots over to the pair to investigate. He walks over to Louis and stares at the gorgeous man. He is very fit, with his black hair is tied back with a bandana and his brown skin deepened by hours in the sun. Suddenly, Harry doesn’t want Zayn to help. It’s irrational, but Harry can’t help but be jealous of the man when all of Louis’ attention is focused on him. 

Harry butts his head into Louis’ hip, demanding attention. Louis places his hand on top of his head, “Zayn this is Harry. Harry, Zayn.”

Zayn laughs at the silly introduction, and Harry wants nothing more than for Louis to continue scratching right behind his ear. There are definitely some perks to being an adorable animal. Harry leans his head into the touch, Louis chuckles. “Thanks for bringing the spare all the way down here. We’d be stranded otherwise.”

Louis’ hand stops scratching all too soon and Louis grabs the spare tire from the truck. 

“No problem, mate. Always happy to help. What’re you heading to London for anyway?” Zayn asks, unloading the hydraulic jack.

Harry turns back as Louis makes up a story to cover their situation, trotting through the grass stops under the shade tree while they work. If he had a pair of opposable thumbs, he’d be right there helping the other two men change the tire, but as a calf he can’t help. He feels useless and dependent. 

While they work in tandem to replace the blown tire, Harry listens as Zayn and Louis catch up, chatting about their families and mutual friends. It’s obvious that Louis cares a lot about the people around him. It only makes Harry feel worse, knowing that even before he was turned into a cow he had no one he cared that much about. Thinking about how lonely his life could be, even while spending so much time with the four other members of Lone Location, his eyes go a little misty. 

He shakes his head and stops himself from crying. To distract himself, he focuses on Louis. Watching him work, he can’t remember the reason why he doesn’t like Louis. He’s not so bad when they aren’t fighting. He watches the way Louis moves his hands while talking and the way his face lights up when he laughs. From a distance, everything about Louis is endearing. 

It’s an easy fix and fifteen minutes later, they’re finished fixing the trailer. 

“Well, that should do it.” Zayn brushes some dirt off his pant leg. Louis stands back and admires their repair. “Thanks for your help, really appreciate it, Z.”

“No problem, mate. Need help loading the calf?” Zayn turns, looking at where Harry is lounging under the shade tree. 

“Nah, I got it.” Louis says. Zayn looks doubtful. Louis shouts 

“Come on, Harry!” Harry rolls his eyes, but figures he will play along with Louis’ prank. He gets up from the ground and walks over to Louis’ side. Zayn looks impressed by his obedience. With Harry pressed against his side, Louis says goodbye. Zayn’s truck pulls away and heads back in the direction he came. 

Louis asks, “Ready to go?”

Harry glances back at the trailer and then at Louis, giving him his best puppy dog eyes. “Are you sure I can’t fit in the cab with you?”

His sad puppy dog eyes must be even more effective, given that he is currently an adorable calf. After only a moment of contemplation, Louis finally gives in. “Alright, you can sit in the truck with me. But, don’t complain when you don’t have room to move around.”

Harry is ecstatic and jumps in a circle, kicking out his back legs as he leaps around Louis. 

“Woah, settle down.” 

Harry slows to a stop in front of the passenger door and waits for Louis to open it. Unfortunately, calves are not as agile as dogs and he can’t just leap up into the seat. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s legs and hoists his entire body up onto the bench seat. He would complain about being manhandled, but he’s doesn’t want to risk Louis putting him back in the stupid trailer, so Harry keeps his mouth shut.

Louis hops back into the driver side and then they’re off again. 

The seat is much plusher than the pile of blankets in the trailer, and the AC is more comfortable than the wind through the slats of the trailer had been. But Louis was right, it’s very cramped. Harry can only sit with his four bony legs tucked up under his body. When he tries to shift to a different position, his tail accidentally whacks against the window. Harry huffs, resigning himself to sit still.

“How much longer, Lou?” 

“About two and a half hours.” 

“Oh joy!” Harry sighs sarcastically.

* * *

“Alright, we’re here!” Louis pulls the truck up to the gate and Harry tells him the code to punch in to unlock it. They’d driven straight through to make up for the time they lost with the flat tire. During the long drive they’d had plenty of time to formulate a game plan. Harry explained that Amy Z lives on a sprawling estate that she is said to have inherited from a distant relative. Harry had only been to her house a handful of times, but he does know where the entrance to her secret lab is. If she has an antidote that can reverse whatever caused Harry to transform, it’s probably down there.

The time spent with Harry in the truck had not been awkward or awful like Louis had originally feared. After they’d come up with a solid plan, they’d continued to chat and discovered that they share similar taste in music and tv shows. It was actually nice to have some company while he drove through the countryside. 

Some moments in the truck had caught Louis off guard, like when Harry swished his tail to the beat as he sang along to the radio, or when Harry’s head started bobbing, heavy with exhaustion as he fought to stay awake. These glimpses at an unguarded Harry reminded him of Harry joyfully prancing in the grass before Zayn had shown up. All these little carefree moments made Louis question if the arrogant pop star was just a persona Harry used as a defense to protect himself. 

Louis isn’t sure what to make of this softer side of Harry. It’s not easy to forget how rude he had been just a day before, but he has hope that Harry will come out of this situation kinder and more compassionate than before. If they can find an antidote, that is. 

Louis parks the truck and helps Harry down. He looks relieved to be able to stretch out his legs after being cramped in the seat for hours. But Louis was surprised that he never complained once about being uncomfortable despite the tight fit. 

Louis decides to unhitch the trailer in case they need to make a quick getaway from Amy’s. He’s not sure what to expect, but if she was diabolical enough to turn her bandmate into a cow, Louis is not about to underestimate her. Harry waits patiently while he works. Once that is done, they walk up to the front door and Harry tells Louis how to get through the security system.

When they step inside, Louis looks around. The home is very modern and clean, like it was set up for a high end magazine. Louis is shocked by how few personal items there are and how unlike Harry this space feels. Harry’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Can you help me pack a bag, please?”

“What for?” Louis asks.

“Well, if there is an antidote to reverse this, I would like to have some clothes to put on when I’m human again.”

“Oh. Oh! Sure. Let’s just…” Louis trails off as he follows Harry into the bedroom. He can’t help but imagine images of a naked Harry Styles and conclude that it is indeed best if they are prepared. The bedroom appears more lived-in than the rest of the house. There are small touches of Harry throughout the room. Harry walks into his large closet and tosses a small duffel bag out to Louis. Using his mouth, Harry plucks a shirt off hanger and lets it fall to the floor. Louis picks it up and stuffs it into the bag. A pair of joggers, some socks, and a pair of Vans follow. 

“Can you open the top drawer?” Harry asks hesitantly. It seems like he is blushing. When Louis pulls open the drawer, he discovers why. While the left half is stacked with plain grey boxer briefs, the right side has a dozen colors of lacy panties. Louis grabs the top pair of grey pants and shuts the drawer. He decides to give Harry a free pass and pretends he hadn’t seen the contents of his pants drawer. 

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” Harry says, avoiding eye contact. With an outfit stored away, Louis zips up the bag and then they’re ready to go. 

He helps Harry back into the truck, and they’re off to Amy’s. Harry gives directions as Louis drives, but the air between them is tense on the short ride over. They’re both anxious and keyed up, unsure if they will find an antidote. And, if they do find the antidote, will Amy try to stop them? 

They pull into her drive next to another car “That’s Kronk's car.” Harry nods to the black Land Rover with the personal license plate 5QUEEK. Amy and Kronk must both be inside the mansion. 

They decide to sneak around the house to the old cellar entrance. Passing by an open window they hear Kronk humming in the kitchen. They pause to ensure he is not near the window. Inside, a timer goes off and he exclaims, “Ooh, my spinach puffs!” Confident that Kronk is distracted, they rush past the window. 

Through the next open window, they can hear Amy on the phone, pacing around the room as she shouts at the person on the other line. “I deserve to be the lead singer of the band! We don’t need Styles to be successful.” 

Harry stifles a gasp, shocked to hear the truth spoken by Amy so plainly, and so loudly. There’s just a few more hours before they call off the shows. That is a few hours for Harry to find the antidote, or a few hours for Amy to finish him off. It strengthens Harry’s resolve to know the evil he is up against. He is more determined than ever to find the antidote and foil Amy’s plan.

They sneak in through a secret passage labeled “Secret Laboratory” above the hidden door. They tip toe down the winding spiral stairs. It’s a struggle for Harry, with the narrow stairs turning at an angle, but with Louis’ help he manages to make it down the entire flight without falling. 

It’s dark at the bottom of the stairs but they leave the lights off to avoid suspicion. Louis uses the light on his mobile phone to guide them. He shines the light around the room to get bearings of their surroundings. They can vaguely make out the small underground lab. It’s cluttered and musty. A massive bookshelf lines the far wall, filled with old books. In the center of the room, a complicated glass apparatus is set up on a table. A glowing lime green liquid flows through the spiraled glass tubes, until it drips out into a flask. 

Harry bumps into the table and an empty glass vial tips over, rolling off the edge of the table. It shatters as it hits the concrete floor. 

“Shit!” Harry whispers. They hold their breaths, listening to hear any movement from upstairs. Thankfully, they hear none, so they continue advancing into the lab searching for the antidote. 

“What does it look like?” Louis asks in a loud whisper.

“I don’t know just keep looking.” 

“Over here!” Louis opens up a cabinet, the shelves lined with dozens of vials. The pink solutions in these vials must be all of her various potions. They start searching for the right one, but it’s hard to read the sloppily handwritten labels by the light of Louis’ phone. “It has to be one of these. Melody, Beauty, Youth…” Louis reads off the labels on the vials. “What are these?”

“I see you’ve discovered my potions.”

Louis and Harry gasp. A bottle labeled Energy slips from Louis’ hand. It explodes in a puff of fuchsia smoke on impact with the ground.

“Kronk, I thought you took care of him?” Amy is furious.

Kronk appears at the bottom of the spiral staircase. “Well, I--”

“You were supposed to make sure he was dead!”

“Oh,” Kronk says.

“Gahhh! Why can’t you do anything right, you imbecile!” Amy screams tugging at her hair in frustration. 

“You tried to kill me!” Harry confronts Amy.

“Of course I did. With you out of the way it will finally be my time to shine.” 

“You thought you could just kill me off and the band would still be successful? You can’t carry the band.”

“We’ll see about that. You might not be dead, but they sure as hell won’t watch a cow prance around the stage. And you can’t turn human if you don’t have the antidote!” Amy laughs evilly as she pulls a vial of pink solution out of her pocket. She raises the bottle of antidote and chucks it at the floor. 

“No!” Harry dives forward, hooves outstretched, to catch the vial before it shatters on the concrete. He catches the vial and grabs it in his mouth. Amy lunges for him, but with his awkward cow limbs he can’t run away with it quick enough. 

Thinking quick, Louis grabs the flask of green liquid and splashes its content at Amy before she can grab Harry. The liquid splashes onto her face, temporarily blinding her.

“Harry, run!” Louis shouts. Harry scrambles up the stairs with the vial in his mouth.

“Kronk, stop them!” Amy shouts as she wipes at the glowing green liquid on her face.

Kronk is hot on Harry’s heels as he races for the door they came in through. But without thumbs, Harry won’t be able to open the door. Instead he veers left to duck behind a wall at the last second. Kronk runs up to the door and looks around the seemingly vacant space. Not seeing Harry, Kronk opens the door and wanders outside in search of him. 

Louis appears at the top of the stairs and motions for Harry to follow him to the front door. They make their exit, just as they hear Amy reach the top of the staircase. They try to silently close the front door, as to not be detected. 

Louis and Harry spill out into the yard and race for the truck but Kronk and Amy are not far behind. 

Amy is determined not to let them get away. She yanks open the front door and shouts. “Kronk, you idiot, they’re getting away!” 

Her voice comes out unnaturally high. She slaps her hands over her mouth in shock. And then her hands start to grow fur. Soft, brown fur!

“No, no, no! This can’t be happening.” Amy cries out. She watches in horror as her hands begin to shrink and can feel an itch in her backside. In a flash of green smoke, her body shrinks down, her clothing falling around her tiny body. She emerges from the neckline of her dress, sitting in the pooled fabric, now a small red squirrel. 

“What the fuck?” Louis shouts, unbelieving that he saw Amy transform into a squirrel before his very eyes. 

Amy turns her beady squirrel eyes toward his voice. Her eyes narrow in on the vial still held in Harry’s mouth. She’s more determined than ever to prevent Harry from getting away with her last vial of antidote.

The glowing pink liquid is her only hope of reversing the unforeseen effects of the experimental all-purpose beauty potion she’d been brewing. 

“I need that antidote, you fools! And once I turn back into my beautiful, younger self, I’m going to kill you!” Amy charges at them, running as fast as her tiny squirrel legs can carry her

“Harry, give me the vial!” Louis sticks out his hand. Harry lets the vial drop from his mouth into Louis’ waiting palm. Louis uncorks the vial and pours it into Harry’s mouth. Amy is not quick enough to cross the large yard with her tiny legs. Every last drop drips onto his tongue and he swallows the foul tasting antidote. 

A warmth floods through his veins and he feels a tingle down his long spine. His tail twitches and ears stand alert. His body is enveloped in a flash of pink smoke as he transforms. 

When the smoke clears, Harry is human again. He coughs and blinks his eyes dazedly. He is dizzy and his vision goes blurry and then fades to black. Harry passes out, collapsing onto the ground. 

“Harry!” Louis falls to his knees to check on him. 

“How dare you!” Amy charges at Louis, springs off the ground, her squirrel claws digging into Louis’ shoulder. Louis reaches up, grabbing the scruff of her tiny squirrel neck and holding her at arm’s length. 

“What have you done to him!” 

“What did I do to him? Look what you did to me!” she screams in her too-high shrill voice. “That beauty potion wasn’t ready! You turned me into a fucking squirrel! And then you gave my last antidote to that ungrateful arse! I will end you!” She bats her claws and kicks her feet at Louis, but her limbs are too short to do any damage. 

“You tried to kill him!” Louis shouts. Then Harry groans, his eyes part open slowly and he coughs. “Ow, my head!” His human hand comes up to cradle his head as he comes to. 

Louis flings Amy to the ground and reaches for Harry, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Relieved that Harry survived. “You’re you!”

“It worked?” Harry pulls back from the embrace, looks at his hands, then the rest of him, cataloging all of his human parts. “It worked! Thank you, Lou!” He pulls louis into another tight hug out of pure joy and relief. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He says softly against Louis’ crook of Louis’ neck, trying to hold back tears of relief.

“You two are going to pay for this!” Amy shouts, shaking her tiny squirrel fist angrily at the pair of them. Louis and Harry break apart to stare her down as she runs at them again. 

A hawk swoops down from the sky, its sights set on dinner. Amy shrieks as the talons close around her. She tries to break out of the grasp, but the talons are too strong. The hawk’s powerful wings raise them up and it soars high into the sky.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” Kronk says from across the yard. 

With one last shrill scream, Amy is carried away over the trees.

* * *

Louis pulls the truck into Harry’s drive once again. He backs the truck up to the trailer hitch, biting his lip in concentration as he checks the mirror to make sure everything is lined up to connect properly. Louis puts the truck in park.

Harry is happy to help him hitch up the trailer for the drive back to his farm now that he has his thumbs back. They work quietly together. While Louis hooks up the safety cables and electrical connections, Harry turns the crank on the jack to lower the trailer onto the hitch. Harry reaches for the pin that locks the hitch at the same time Louis does and their hands brush. The touch is charged. Harry feels the warm shock on his skin linger after Louis pulls away.

Louis slides the pin in place. The trailer is secured and ready to go.

“Well, it’s getting late. I should get back to the farm before sunset.” Louis says, but he doesn’t move toward his truck. 

Harry wants to kiss him goodbye, invite him inside, anything to make Louis stay. But, he’s been a cow for ninety percent of the time they’ve known each other, and an arrogant son of a bitch for the other ten percent. How could Louis ever feel the same about him? 

Weighed down by his doubt and insecurities, Harry does nothing. Instead of any of the things he wants to do, Harry lets Louis go.

“Alright. Thanks again, Lou. For everything.” 

“Sure, no problem, H. Glad you got the antidote.” Louis rubs the back of his neck nervously. Louis says goodbye with a little wave before hopping into his truck. 

Harry is left standing alone in his yard, staring down the drive Louis disappeared down. He wonders how hard it will be to move on from Louis now that this crazy situation is behind them.

* * *

Louis can’t move on from the crazy situation with Harry. He’d woken up exhausted after a fitful night of sleep where he’d dreamed of Harry collapsing after drinking Amy’s poison. His eyes are scratchy and his head is pounding from the lack of sleep. He drags himself to the kitchen for some much-needed tea. Thankfully his siblings had already gone off to school and the house is silent.

His headache only gets worse when he unlocks his phone to read the morning headlines. He is bombarded with the headlines declaring that Harry Styles had been found alive. Despite his intentions to move on and forget the arrogant pop star, he cannot tear his eyes away from the headlines. He devours every article he can find as he ate breakfast. 

> ### Harry Styles found alive and well after kidnapping
> 
> _Harry Styles, lead singer of Lone Location has been found! The pop star was presumed missing since early Sunday morning when it was discovered he had not been on either of his band’s tour busses. An extensive search effort was undertaken to locate the missing singer. He appeared early Monday morning and contacted the authorities when he escaped from bandmate, Amy Z’s house. Amy Z is the lead guitar of Lone Location. It is alleged that Amy Z kidnapped and poisoned Styles and held him hostage at her estate. An investigation is currently underway. A spokesperson for Harry Styles said they would not be commenting on the ongoing investigation._
> 
> _Sources close to the investigation have revealed some interesting information about the Lone Location guitarist. It seems that Amy Z, the 24 year old musician, has a secret identity and mysterious past. Personal records and diaries found at the scene seem to indicate that Amy Z is an alias for a woman named Yzma. What’s more, these records seem to indicate that Yzma is an ancient alchemist. Her diaries cataloged her extensive life, with records as early as the 15th century. Amy Z could not be located for comment as of the time of publishing._

Louis laughs, knowing full well that Amy Z probably wouldn’t be commenting on anything ever again. He rereads the article, still stunned about Amy Z’s past. It really shouldn’t shock him that Amy Z had so many secrets to hide, as she did try to kill her band mate to gain fame. He does hope they release more information from her diaries. There are probably several tales from her centuries-long life that would make for some entertaining movies.

Louis sips at the last dregs of tea and switches to Twitter. Unsurprisingly, #weloveharry is still the top trending hashtag. The official Lone Location Twitter had tweeted a new message thanking everyone for their efforts in the search for Harry and announcing that the remaining shows of their world tour would go on as scheduled, but without Amy Z. 

He’s still scrolling through Twitter and thinking about Harry when there’s a knock at his front door. Clifford barks and he races to the door, over eager to greet the unexpected visitor. 

“Down, Cliff.” Louis chastises. When he opens the door, Harry is standing on his front porch, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Hey.” Harry says shyly, rocking on his heels.

“Harry?” 

“Sorry, hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, no. Come in.” Louis leads him in. Harry pets Clifford as he follows Louis inside to the kitchen. Louis leans his hip against the counter. “I was just reading the news. The stuff about Amy Z is crazy.”

“It is, isn’t it. But I didn’t come here to talk about her.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s just that I really need to talk to you. I need to explain myself, and apologize. I was an arrogant son of a bitch when we met before the concert, and then I was even more of a mess after I got turned into a cow. I’m sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve that because you are so caring and selfless. You were willing to drop everything to help me. You’re such a lovely, bright person and have a heart of gold. And, I’m really thankful that I ended up in the back of your truck.”

Louis’ cheeks feel flushed. He opens his mouth, ready to accept his apology. But Harry continues, “I wanted to kiss you before you left yesterday. All night I was kicking myself for not making a move. I drove up here as soon as the sun came up. I had to know if you maybe felt the same.”

Louis surges forward, kissing Harry. His heartbeat races as Harry kisses him back. Louis’ hand falls to Harry’s waist, pulling him in closer as he deepens the kiss. It’s amazingly hot and he  
doesn’t come up for air. But eventually they part, leaning their foreheads together as they catch their breath.

“I do feel the same, Harry.” Louis looks into his eyes, caresses his cheek. “I’m glad we got a second chance to meet, even though you were a cow.”

“I’m so sorry about the first time we met.” Harry turns, planting a soft kiss on his palm. Then his eyes widen and he smiles, his dimple popping. “Louis, let me make it up to you. Come to our show tomorrow night.” 

“Well, I don’t know…” Louis decides to play hard to get, teasing Harry. “Last time I was at a Lone Location show I nearly got kicked out.”

Harry pouts dramatically. “I’ll have to have a word.” Harry giggles. “Now, you will always be welcome backstage. I’d be so happy if you could come to any of our shows.” 

“Well, if you insist,” Louis agrees before pulling Harry into another kiss.

* * *

“This is our final song, Kiwi!” Harry screams out to the sold-out stadium. “I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special person that helped find me. This one is for Lou.”

Harry runs the length of the stage, as the band begins to play. “Let’s go!” Harry shouts to pump up the crowd. As he throws up his arms, the golden fringe on his suit dangles and shines. 

Louis watches from the side of the stage, just behind the curtain. Harry had given him good seats, but he’d already watched the show from the crowd. Tonight, he wanted to be closer to Harry. Much of the show had been identical to the one he’d seen three nights ago, but the energy of the room is amplified. It’s the first show since Harry had gone missing and the fans are fueled by the excitement and relief of his return.

Liam and Niall had been happy to have Harry back, as well, welcoming him back with fierce hugs. Lone Location’s team had worked quickly to replace Amy Z and Kronk on short notice. Sarah Jones and Mitch Rowland were the newest additions to Lone Location, and they fit into the band seamlessly. 

Louis actually found himself enjoying the show, singing along to the songs he recognized and smiling every time Harry would surreptitiously glance in Louis’ direction. Harry was in his element on stage and it was amazing to watch him run and dance around the stage. It reminded Louis a bit of the day Harry ran through the grass, prancing around on his little cow hooves.

After the song finishes, Louis moves out of the way. The band members file through as they clear the stage. Louis waits patiently as Harry thanks the crowd again. Finally, Harry exits. When he sees Louis waiting for him, his face lights up. 

He asks, “What are you doing backstage?”

Louis bats his eyelashes coyly. He says, “I’m just trying to meet some stuck up pop star after the show.” 

“Oh, really?” Harry smile widens as he leans in closer to Louis.

“Yeah, have you seen him anywhere?”

“Have you checked his dressing room?” 

Louis shakes his head. “No, I haven’t.” With a suggestive eyebrow raise, he adds, “Maybe you should show me the way?” 

As soon as they are alone in the dressing room, Harry pulls Louis in for a kiss. Louis cards a hand through the hair at the base of Harry’s neck. He pulls away quickly. “Ugh, you’re all sweaty.” 

“It’s hard work being a pop star.” Harry smirks.

“Sure, it is. Now, get this off.” Louis tugs at Harry’s suit coat. He peels off the heavy material and the fringe clatters when it hits the floor. 

“Fuck, you looked so hot on that stage tonight.” Louis says. He makes quick work of the button on his black trousers, eager to finally get his mouth on him. He pushes them down his thighs before dropping to his knees. 

Harry gasps as he feels Louis’ breath on his cock. Louis holds his cock in his hand, circling the crown teasingly with the tip of his tongue taking half his length in his mouth. He bobs his head and moves his tongue along his length. Harry bites his knuckles, trying to hold back a moan.

“Not gonna last long, Lou.” Harry grunts.

Louis sinks down further, relaxing his throat to take all of Harry. 

“Fuck, Lou.” Harry says as he comes. Louis works him through his orgasm, continuing to lick at his cock until he pulls away from the sensitivity.

Spent, Harry falls back onto the sofa in the corner of the room. Louis steps out of his pants before he straddles Harry’s lap. His leaking cock brushes against Harry’s abs as he sits down. Harry fists his length, pulling him off quickly. Louis is so worked up from sucking Harry off that it only takes a few strokes. Louis lets go, spilling into Harry’s fist. 

He collapses into Harry’s chest as he tries to catch his breath after his intense release. 

Harry pulls off his shirt and uses it to clean them up. Harry kisses Louis’ temple and then he says smugly, “You know, I’m so glad I let you come backstage.” Then he pinches Louis’ arse cheek.

“Let me?” Louis challenges. “I deserve to be backstage after the hell we went through to get your antidote.” Louis tickles Harry as payback for his smug comment. Laughter spills over them as Harry tries unsuccessfully to restrain Louis’ hands as they roll on the couch.

“Alright alright, I surrender. Mercy.” Harry cries out when his stomach hurts from laughing. They fall quiet for a moment, limbs tangled together on the couch. Louis lays listening to Harry’s heart beat in his chest. 

“Jokes aside, I’m really glad you’re here Lou.” Harry’s voice holds new a tone of sincerity. Louis looks up, meeting his eyes. Harry holds him tighter. “I know I’ve said this before, but I was not very happy or kind before I met you. I’m a better person because of you. I’m thankful that being turned into a cow led me back to you.” 

“I’m glad we got a second chance, too.” Louis says, leaning in for a kiss.

It is a slow, tender kiss, one that leaves Louis feeling warm all over. When they pull apart, Harry whispers softly against his lips, “I think you were the antidote I needed all along.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! [Here](https://haztobegood.tumblr.com/post/622266197518467072/love-and-other-antidotes-by-haztobegood-rating-e) is a rebloggable post for the fic.


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